“Ah, M. de Monsoreau, there is no more rest for you,” said Bussy, “you wished to be chief huntsman, and you are so, and now you will have at least fifty nights’ rest less than other men. Luckily you are not married.” At this joke, Monsoreau’s face was covered once more with that hideous paleness which gave to him so sinister an aspect. CHAPTER XII. HOW BUSSY FOUND BOTH THE PORTRAIT AND THE ORIGINAL. The chase terminated about four o’clock in the evening, and at five all the court returned to Paris. As they passed by the Bastile, the duke said to Bussy, “Look to the right, at that little wooden house with a statue of the Virgin before it; well, count four houses from that. It is the fifth you have to go to, just fronting the Rue St. Catherine.” “I see it; and look! at the sound of the trumpets announcing the king, all the windows are filled with gazers.” “Except the one I show you, where the curtains remain closed.” “But there is a corner lifted,” said Bussy, with a beating heart. “Yes, but we can see nothing. The lady is well guarded. However, that is the house.” When Bussy returned, he said to Rémy, “Have you discovered the house?” “No, monseigneur.” “Well, I believe I have been more lucky.” “How so, monsieur, have you been seeking?” “I passed through the street.” “And you recognized the house?” “Providence, my dear friend, has mysterious ways.” “Then you are sure?” “Not sure, but I hope.” “And when shall I know if you are right?” “To-morrow morning.” “Meanwhile, do you want me?” “No, my dear Rémy.” “Shall I not follow you?” “Impossible.” “Be prudent, monseigneur.” “Ah! the recommendation is useless, my prudence is well known.” Bussy dined like a man who does not know when he will sup, then, at eight o’clock, choosing the best of his swords, and attaching, in spite of the king’s orders, a pair of pistols to his belt, went in his litter to the corner of the Rue St. Paul. He easily recognized the house again, and then, wrapped in his cloak, hid at the corner of the street, determined to wait for two hours, and at the end of that time, if no one came, to act for himself. He had scarcely been there ten minutes, when he saw two cavaliers coming. One of them dismounted, gave his horse to the other, who was probably a lackey, and who went away with the horses, and advanced towards the house pointed out to Bussy, and, after glancing round to see if he were observed, opened the door and went in. Bussy waited two or three minutes, and then followed him. He advanced slowly and softly, found the staircase, and went up. In the corridor he stopped, for he heard a voice say, “Gertrude, tell your mistress that it is I, and that I must come in.” This was said in an imperious tone, and, a minute after, Bussy heard a woman’s voice say: “Pass into the drawing-room, Monsieur, and madame will come to you.”